never trust a man with blue eyes and disheveled hair and an attitude too big for his body. notice the glint of silver on his finger, then run and don’t look back. he is not yours to take.
touch. do not feel. the gentle curve of his jaw, the sturdy frame of his shoulders, the hard edges of his hips. but when he smiles, you can’t help but feel, feel everything.
you cannot love, you were not meant to. you belong under the dim barlights kissing sweet, faceless men, whose names you can’t remember.
hate him. hate the way he touches you, runs his fingers through your hair, his gentle laughter and full lips, the way his whispers your name, over and over, against your skin.
he is cruel and yet you love him; he is charming and yet you hate him. he is a disaster waiting to happen, and you know it. don’t get too close, for he will burn you to ash.
remember, never love a maniac. see the way his proud jaw clenches, the way his eyes turn to steel, and plants his feet on the ground as if the whole world were his.
do you love him? no.
you see him again and he smiles at you. do not trust the blue eyes and the disheveled hair––– you smile back because he is beautiful and he is charming, and you do not yet know how cruel the world can be.
when you collapsed on that court, you thought: it was too good to be true; a man like me never deserved a happy ending.
watch, your eyes grow darker and your cheeks grow more hollow, the clothes hanging loosely on your frame. you ask: why me, of all men? but you know the answer, don’t you? this was your punishment for taking something that was not yours.
when the world crumbles, he kisses you on your chapped lips and he holds your broken pieces together. you kiss him desperately because you love him, the man with the blue eyes and the disheveled hair and the attitude too big for his body. you knew it: that you would both burn. but you were two galaxies colliding into one, temporary, and beautiful.
when you whisper: I love you. there are the words you never wanted to hear but you needed so badly to hear, on his lips: I love you, too.
you knew, loving him would destroy you. but still you say: i never wanted to love him, but i did. i am a selfish man; and what would I do if i had not loved you?
Love Can Tell a Million Stories (Whizzer POV) // Mizutamari (ao3)
